


The Winter that Never Ended

by Anki_Shai



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Blacksmith Thorin, Bottom Thranduil, Curse Breaking, Cursed!Thranduil, Kinda like a fairy tale world, M/M, Magical World, Out of Character, Thorin is the hero, Top Thorin, True Love's Kiss, but just a little bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anki_Shai/pseuds/Anki_Shai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where magic only happens in the big Kingdoms, Thorin Oakenshield had to find a way to save his nephew's life. He never intended to get lost on his way to the closest healer, and he certainly didn't plan to fall in the clutches of a strange Lord and his household. yet, destiny seemed to have something to say about his life and how this little encounter would change his perception of live, magic and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winter that Never Ended

**The Winter that Never Ended**

 

Winter came with great blizzards and hunger to the village.

Located in the forgotten space of the land, the village of Erebor was a modest accommodation of huts and cabins filled with people who saw the passage of time without changing their paths. It had been a long time since this land had been prospered and filled with stories of adventures, magic and mythical creatures. Times had changed bringing the richness of the world to the great lands of Kings and Queens that preferred to ignore the faraway lands of the world; while most of the time the village survive the harsh times, winter had always been the worst of them all. Just last year they had lost many children and elderly to the cold, a year before that one they had lost many more to sickness.

Times were hard, and many inhabitants of Erebor were losing any will to live yet they didn’t have enough resources or gold to leave their home. Many knew they would die this winter or the next and Erebor would perish and became nothing else but ruins.

The sky darkened rather fast in the early hours of the morning, the wind blew coldly around the village. People barely left their homes and, when they did, they wore on them almost all the clothes they possessed. Winter was just beginning but many had already noticed the lack of food and goods necessary for the survival of such harsh weather; the caravan of merchants that usually came around this time had yet to arrive and bring the news from the Kingdom and the biggest villages of the North.  As the nights became longer and the days shorter, the people of Erebor started saving the little food they still had on their cupboards while sending out their best hunters into the forest in the hopes to have some meat for their meals.

It was in this world where Thorin Oakenshield, the oldest son of the only blacksmith in the village, lived.  The man’s life had been filled with misfortune ever since his grandfather had returned from a trip to the neighbouring village mad, his words filled with stories about monstrous creatures and a great castle in the middle of the Black Forest. He had come to Erebor talking about a great jewel that would change his and the village’s fortune, Thrór Oakenshield had died soon after his return madness still evident in his face when he was found in the forest. But, the misfortune of the Oakenshield’s family didn’t end there, almost a year after Thrór’s dead his son Thráin followed in his footsteps speaking about the map his father had drawn and the possibility of a great fortune hidden in the forest. Thorin had not seen him anymore, rumour had it Thráin had fallen to a pack of wolves for the only remnants of him where the bloodied clothes and the dishevelled camp he had made in the forest.  Nothing else was found.

Misfortune had certainly turned out for the worse for the Oakenshield family when, two years ago another disaster stroke down Thorin’s siblings, his wife and his child. On that day, Thorin had lost everyone but his two young nephews, they were the only remnant of hope the young man held in his heart. People in the village felt pity for him, everyone seemed to also be scare of the man who seemed to be surrounded by bad luck; but Thorin didn’t particularly care, he had his nephews and he had the few friends he had made in his younger years. It was the only reassurance to his afflicted soul, it was the reason why he kept fighting against circumstances and bad times.

However, with the coming of this winter Thorin couldn’t help but fear. It had been long enough since they last suffered such a devastating weather with so few to survive, his last incursion to the neighbouring village hadn’t gone as he expected and what he little he got he would have to stretch it out until better times come. Thorin Oakenshield found himself putting some more wood in the fireplace; he turned his head back to see his nephews sitting on the chair hugging one another while enjoying the last book he had brought from his travels. A pang of pain shot through his soul when the both of them lifted their faces giving him a hopeful smile, the same kind of smile Dís and Frerin used to shot him when they were children looking for adventure. 

“What are we reading this time?” Thorin sat beside them glancing at the book while placing his arm around them.

“I think it’s the tale about the Saviour and the dragon.” Fíli said showing the only picture the book had.

Thorin glanced at the red form of the dragon facing a knight in silver armour with golden hair, his lips curled up remembering the times he would sit to listen this stories from the old storyteller that came with the caravan of merchants every year. Thorin was reminded of those times in which he believed in magic and quests, in which his heart burnt with a desire to go out of the village and become a hero. As he grew up, life made sure he understood his role in the world was to stay as he was now, a blacksmith working odd works whenever the weather allowed it.

“This one is my favourite.” Kíli mumbled with a sloppy smile on his face, his eyes almost closing.

“Really? Why is that?” Thorin asked turning the page glancing down on his nephew who looked up at him with big, trusting eyes.

“Because the knight is a great hero just like you, uncle.” Kíli grinned widely with Fíli nodding in agreement.

“He never gives up and keeps fighting and we trust him because he always wins.” Fíli commented with finality in his voice.

Thorin felt his heart shrank at this, he looked away until he saw the flames of the fire flickered slightly. Fíli leaned back against his uncle while Kíli lifted the book, Thorin swallowed down his emotions before grabbing the book.

“Very well, then let’s keep reading where we left, shall we?”

“Yes!”

Thorin started reading glancing once in a while to his nephews, he clenched his fist promising to himself and the skies above them he would make sure Kíli and Fíli survived and live until their hair had turned grey and time caught up with them. He would not allow them to die before their time.

“How are they?” Thorin finished putting some warm blankets on the children turning around in surprise.

“Bilbo!”

Bilbo entered the cabin shaking off the snow on his jacket; he offered a weak smile lifting his left hand where he was holding a big basket. Thorin furrowed his brows shaking his head until the other man stepped forward placing it on Thorin’s hand.

“Don’t be stupid, take it.” Bilbo then went to the kitchenette where he grabbed a few pans and a pot to start making something to drink and eat.

“I cannot take this…” Thorin started but soon shut up when he was the subject of an angered stare.

“Thorin, you have to take it because there is nothing else in the village.” Bilbo shook his head getting everything ready while speaking. “It is not only you and it certainly has nothing to do with the lack of honest job or money.”

“Are things really this bad?” Thorin sat down allowing Bilbo to move around his kitchenette, of the two of them Bilbo was the only one who knew how to cook.

Bilbo nodded gravelly working on preparing dinner, his hands moved with dexterity placing the vegetables and the bread he had gotten from the market. He put out some eggs and cheese before showing off the tea he had brought, it was a luxury Thorin didn’t dare to ask how his friend had gotten with the situation as it was.

“Yes, it has been more than a week since we got news from the caravan of merchants that usually come this time around.” Bilbo pursed his lips. “And, last night Bofur came in to tell us the hunters had not come either, apparently the storm last night was even worse in the Black Forest than it was here.”

Thorin clenched his fists glancing back to where Fíli and Kíli were still sleeping. He had wanted to become a hunter and, for a while, he was one. One of the best, mind you, he was skilful with the bow and the arrow and his sword play was the best around the village. His father got sick, however, and there was no one else capable enough to take over the family business so Thorin had to stay at home. Nevertheless, what was really worrisome was the lack of news from the hunters, they usually didn’t take this long to come back when the weather didn’t allow them to get come good preys. As if that wasn’t enough, the storm had been bad, Thorin still remembered the sound of the wind shaking the cabin.

“How are you?” Bilbo shot Thorin a quick glance before turning his attention back to the dinner.

“I’m good.” Thorin lied through his teeth offering a crooked smile to the incredulous eyes of his friend.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Thorin.”

“I could be better. But I have to be good for them, Bilbo. I cannot afford to be weak.” Thorin shrugged. “Things are bad since on my last trip I couldn’t make the deals I was hoping for. Besides, the roads had become even more dangerous with the news of this warlock attacking the travellers.”

“Yes, I heard about him as well.” Bilbo pursed his lips placing some of the water Thorin kept in the kitchen on the pot. “Strange though, I’ve heard the rumours but there seems to be as if the warlock is only interested in the north part of Black Forest.”

Thorin nodded, “You noticed too, eh? Personally, I think it’s a common thief, I don’t think there are enough warlocks in this world to be of any danger for us. Besides, what can possible be in Black Forest for a warlock to be interested in?”

Bilbo didn’t offer a retort, he was frowning deeply and Thorin Decided to change the subject. Thorin knew Bilbo believed in these kind of things, he had always been the dreamer and the real hero of the two of them.

“So, you spoke with Bofur last night, eh?” Thorin smirked when his comment made Bilbo looked away embarrassed. “Tell me, my friend, how did this meeting with Bofur go?”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Time passed by, and soon Thorin and the rest of the villagers realized winter was just growing stronger and deathly.

People started getting sick, many of them went looking for Bilbo and Oín the only ones who had any knowledge of medical herbs and have some healing training. Food was getting harder to collect and the roads were now closed for thick layers of snow were covering the land.

Thorin Oakenshield stood in the middle of his room with his arms crossed, he contemplate his options as Bilbo finished putting some cold packs on Kíli’s burning forehead. Thorin felt tears welling up in his eyes, Fíli was standing by his side grabbing his leg with his hands watching the bed where his brother was resting in a delirious dream. Bofur, Dwalin and Baling were occupying the few chairs Thorin had in his home, all of them looking equally concerned about the situation at hand. Bilbo swallowed down feeling Kíli’s pulse, he pursed his lips wishing Gandalf was nearby he usually knew how to solve this kind of maladies; the young man sighed turning around to see Thorin watching with fear in his eyes.

“How is he?” Thorin asked firmly, his arms uncrossing slowly.

“He is burning up.” Bilbo replied honestly, he stood up facing his friend and the rest of the room. “He needs medicine I do not possess, Thorin. He needs help I cannot provide.”

Thorin clenched his jaw nodding curtly; Fíli sniffed shaking his head while hiding his face on his uncle’s leg. Thorin knelt down embracing Fíli tightly; the young man turned his stare to Bilbo with his own tears rolling down silently.

“I made a promise, Bilbo.”

“I know, Thorin.” Bilbo stepped forward hesitating for a second. “But, if you do that…”

“The thing is, Thorin, we cannot allow you to do something foolish.” Dwalin said suddenly.

Balin nodded glancing around the room. “It could be dangerous and hop…”

“Don’t.” Thorin cut Balin off shaking his head, he picked Fíli up turning around to look at his friends. “Don’t say it, I promise it, Balin. I won’t let anything happen to them.”

“Winter is stronger than ever, it hasn’t stopped snowing from more than two days, Thorin. The roads are impossible and the next village is almost a day and a half away.” Dwalin intervened as well.

“Is Kíli gonna be fine?” Fíli asked in a small tone of voice.

Thorin felt his resolution hardened, he turned his head to Kíli then his eyes found those of Fíli; Thorin sighed taking a deep breath before facing his friends. In that moment, Bilbo understood he wouldn’t be able to change his friends mind.

“Thorin, give it one night. I may be wrong, the fever may decrease by tomorrow morning.” Bilbo said this with little conviction in his voice, he glanced around before whispering. “At least, wait for morning, not this late in  the afternoon, the weather is even worse at this time.”

“I know what’s at stake here, Bilbo.” Thorin then nodded briefly. “If things have not improved by morning I will leave.”

“And we will lend you my horse, supplies and good fortune.” Bilbo promised.

*****

The night was a long one.

Thorin spent most of his night trying to lower Kíli’s fever, he tried to make the child eat something but as soon as Kíli tasted food he threw up crying softly for his mother. It broke Thorin’s heart and it made him feel useless all over again, he was trembling with fear and anger at his own inability to keep his family safe. He looked around the room with his eyes falling up the forms of his friends all sleeping around his home waiting for Kíli to get better. Fíli was resting right beside Bilbo hugging the book tightly against his body; Thorin glanced down at Kíli who was looking paled though his cheeks were red for the fever. Morning was approaching fast and, by the time Bilbo and the others woke up he had made his decision.

“I’m leaving.” Thorin said in a low tone to Bilbo and Balin, both men looked at one another gravelly before Balin nodded grudgingly.

“Yes, I believe you’re right. Kíli needs a healer.” Balin pursed his lips, Bilbo put a cup of tea on Thorin’s hands silencing the man with a single glance.

“Don’t. Eat something. I will arrange everything for you and Kíli to leave right away but you have to eat.”

“Will you care for Fíli?” Thorin asked in a thin voice. “I wouldn’t ask it…”

“Of course I will!” Bilbo was looking offended by the proposal as if Thorin thought for a second he wouldn’t do it. They were family more than friends, always had been. “You make sure Kíli is fine and I’ll care for Fíli until you two come back.”

“Thank you, Bilbo.” Thorin drank some of the tea getting ready mentally and physically for the long ride.

The morning was not better than the morning the day before, or the day after that one. It was cold and the snowflakes kept on falling on the land, Bilbo got his horse ready with supplies and warm covers for Thorin and Kíli. The rest of Thorin’s friend all came out of the cottage to say good-bye, Fíli was holding onto Bilbo with tears in his eyes waving as Thorin mounted on the horse with Kíli in his arms. Thorin fixed the bow on his back, he glanced at the straps holding up his quiver and then to the sword hanging from the side of the horse. He swallowed down when Kíli coughed whining softly, Thorin turned around giving his friends a weak smile before grabbing the reins of the horse guiding him down the road leading to the forest and to the village where Kíli’s chances of survival was.

Bilbo, Balin, Dwalin and Bofur all stayed behind watching as Thorin grabbed the horse with Kíli in his arms. Bilbo grabbed Fíli who was crying softly against his arms.

“I hope everything goes well.” Dwalin mumbled and the rest of them nodded.

“It’s going to be fine. The healer, Radagast, is one of the best, too bad he doesn’t leave here.” Bilbo commented biting on his lower lip. “Now, Fíli why don’t you show me the book you were holding last night?”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The world spread before him as he rode at a gallop through the road; soon he left the village behind him with his face feeling the remains of the cold. He narrowed his eyes to better look at the road, the Black Forest approaching while his left hand held onto Kíli with love and worriedness.

For most of the day, the ride was smooth and without any trouble.

Thorin almost smiled before his luck for the road seemed to be cleaned off the traces of the snowstorm of the last few days. However, his luck ran thin when they reached the borders of the Black Forest and the snow became thicker and harder to sort out. Thorin cursed lowly watching around without any signs of the road leading to one of the shortcuts, he put Kíli closer to him when he felt the child trembling in his arms and for a moment he wondered if what he was doing was the wisest thing to do. He should have gone and bring the healer instead of taking Kíli with him, but he was afraid if he were to do this Kíli would…

“No, I won’t let you die.” Thorin mumbled looking up to the sky, dark clouds coming his way with the Black Forest spreading before him.

Whatever sign of doubt in Thorin died the moment Kíli started coughing again, he knew the forest was the most direct way to the next village but he also knew this was one of the most dangerous routes. Many stories, legends and myths surrounded the forest’s origins and the ages it had survive in this world; Thorin used to love the stories about the former King of the Lands of Rhovanion, a fair looking King who was kind and loving, he was a hero of the people who protected everyone from the clutches of evil, hunger and desperation. However, one day everything changed when a great evil came to the land, an evil that obsessed itself with the beautiful King. He tried to possess him by taking the King’s wife and bringing blackness into the world, the King had refused this, he even tried to fight it off until…The stories said the King won and he kept on ruling until times changed, some legends said the King died killing his enemy and the land was left kingless, some myths said the King was still out there, hiding from this evil who was still trying to take him by force.

Thorin had grown up out of this stories, he had stopped believing in them when his family had been stroke by misfortune and he had to take on a role he wasn’t agreeable to. Kíli and Fíli though, the love the stories and they wouldn’t stop talking about the great Saviour, the former King who had been a hero and a just ruler. Thorin swallowed down when Kíli mumbled again calling out to him this time.

The young man stopped the hors for a moment; he looked around the forest watching intently to the signs leading to one of the adjacent roads. He knew there were only three routes travellers followed in the forest, the fastest way to the next village was the road to his left though this road was rather dangerous for it didn’t have any clear marking and you had to be a great tracker to even get out without getting lost in the forest. The longest way was the main road; the one Thorin was riding through.

“Where to?” Thorin mumbled watching his warm breath, the day was becoming colder announcing the promptly arrival of the night.

Thorin glanced down to see Kíli shivering again, his cheeks were still read though his lips were white. Fear grabbed the heart of the young man, and without hesitation he guided the horse to the left entering the small path without looking back.

Thorin knew he was halfway through the forest when the snowflakes started falling, he looked up to see the day turning into night faster than it should be. He cursed lowly again putting Kíli closer to his chest while trying to look for the oil lamp Bilbo had given to him on the saddle of the horse. The forest around him was dead silent; the only sound was coming from the wind around him and the leaves of the trees. As he advanced with the horse, Thorin felt watched; the man tensed up narrowing his eyes while looking around him. He had his sword and his bow with him, but with Kíli on his arms any form of fighting would be difficult if not impossible.  

“Uncle…” Kíli grabbed his shirt trembling again before coughing.

“We’re almost there, Kíli. Hang on.” Thorin was looking now for something to light up the lamp when he heard something behind him.

Thorin swallowed tilting his head slightly to the right though he saw nothing, he then turned it to the left and froze on the spot when he spotted a pair of yellow eyes watching him intently. The horse started kicking the ground uneasily moving faster, Thorin felt his heart speeding up while his free hand let go of the oil lamp to find the hilt of his sword.

The forest was silent again.

Thorin took a deep breath urging the horse down the path he was taking, darkness was closing in and everything around him was looking the same. A few more minutes and they should reach the edge of the forest; still they kept on riding and the edge seemed farther away, Thorin started noticing more and more yellow eyes and soon he caught the sound of growling.

“Damn it.” Thorin mumbled lowly holding Kíli tightly.

Then, it happened.

A long, bloodcurdling howl broke the silence in the forest.

Thorin opened his eyes wide when he saw the beasts coming towards him. At first he thought his eyes were playing some tricks on him for he had never heard or seen such huge wolves before in his live, they were almost as tall as his horse and they were moving faster than any other dog or wolves Thorin had encountered before.

“Run!” Thorin hurried the horse, his body tensing up while his mind worked on a safe exit for him and Kíli. The beasts were almost catching up to him, Thorin could see them out of the corner of his eyes, his hand trying to put the sword out of the sheath.  The young man was so focused on his task and his pursuers he never noticed the white wolf-like creature standing before him until the horse reared up neighing in fear.

Everything happened too fast for Thorin to prevent it.

He fell of the horse with Kíli falling from his arms, he felt when something inside him broke and pain shot thought his eyes and his head was shaken by the fall.  Thorin tried to incorporate; he grabbed the small knife on his boot with his eyesight blurry and his body trembling in pain.

“KÍLI! KÍLI!” He screamed trying to locate his nephew but soon he found himself on the ground again, the white wolf-like creature snarling with his rotten breath hitting Thorin on the face.

Just before his world went black Thorin heard the creature howl in pain and his weight leaving his body, a strange creature gleaming in the midst of darkness came before him and the white beast.

“Kíli…” Thorin mumbled just before his world went completely black.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Everything hurt.

It was the only thing he could think at the moment, the pain surrounding and overwhelming his senses. His body felt heavy, but his ears caught the remains of a conversation with unfamiliar voices reaching out to him.

“You shouldn’t have brought him here.” One of the voices said gravelly, Thorin stirred fighting off his state of unconsciousness.

“I couldn’t leave him out there in the open.” Another male voice answered with just a hint of sympathy on his tone.

Thorin tried to open his eyes tensing his body ready to fight or to run, his mind reminding him Kíli must be still out there with fever and wounded. The young man wasn’t fit for waking or moving at all, his body protested when he tried to move again, his left leg, right arm and chest burn with sharp waves of pain making him moan. The room went silent for a second, Thorin tried to gather his senses to do something but he knew it was useless, he felt something on his tongue and soon he was falling into another painless sleep.

“Father is going to be mad.” The other male mumbled closer to Thorin this time.

“Let me deal with him, for now let’s help this man and his child before we lose both of them.”

_Kíli_

Thorin held onto the knowledge Kíli was nearby before falling into darkness all over again.

*****

The night was dark and cold.

White and grey covered the land while the storm took over the earth, the sound of the wind became almost unbearable though the thick walls of the castle kept most of it in the gardens of the property. Thorin woke to a dream he didn’t remember but that left him with a heavy heart and unsteady mind. He took a deep breath looking at the ceiling of the four-posted bed, the pain he had forgotten while unconscious came to him slowly shooting up his limbs to the very core of his soul.

The first thing he noticed after the pain was the warm he was feeling and how comfortable he was. Never before had he felt such a soft mattress under his back, or have such heavy blankets on his body, never mind the obvious luxury surrounding him. Wherever he was, Thorin was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to pay back his host. The young man shifted biting down his lower lip to stop any sound of protest to come out, he started breathing fast while trying to move again; while he was conscious of his wounded state, Thorin had only one thing in mind: Kíli.

Thorin shifted around holding back his exclamations, his eyes filled with tears as he rested his weight on his broken arm. The man tried again sitting down, this time around using his good hand to hold himself up, there was sweat on his face, his eyes narrowing while he looked the state his leg was in. Whoever had saved him, it had done a wonderful job in patching him up, his leg was held neatly in between two wooden plates with clean bandages holding it together.  His right arm was just about the same and his chest was covered with bandages and a thin, loose white linen shirt.  Thorin took a deep breath sliding his legs slowly to the edge of the bed, he knew the hard part would come when he needed to stand up, but for now he was just happy to move slowly thinking of Kíli. He and Fíli were the ones giving Thorin strength and by the god’s he would not leave his nephews behind or at the hands of his strange saviour. He needed to know Kíli was fine.

“You shouldn’t move.” The tiny, gentle voice of a girl startled him, Thorin turned around noticing for the very first time the form of a young girl watching him with big, curious eyes. “Da said you should rest and to tell him when you wake up. You hurt your leg, sir, you shouldn’t move.”

Thorin blinked a couple of times, his eyes swept around the room trying to spot someone else in the room but he realized it was only him and the girl. He swallowed down regarding the child warily.

“I need to get up.” He finally said furrowing his brows when he noticed his voice sounded groggy and dry. “Who are you?”

The girl shook her head stepping closer to Thorin, “Nu-uh, da said you need rest. I’m Tilda. Did I wake you up? Da told me not to bother you.”

Thorin glanced over at the girl noticing there was apprehension in her eyes, he couldn’t help but smile shaking his head.

“No, you didn’t wake me up. I woke up alone.” Thorin then offered a gentle smile, clearing his throat slightly. “I’m Thorin, by the way. Nice to meet you, Tilda.”

Tilda gave Thorin a brilliant smile; relief was evident in her eyes when she glanced over at Thorin again. “I’m going to call Da. Wait here.”

“No! Wait!” Thorin tried to stop the girl but she was fast and left almost immediately, Thorin cursed trying to stand up only to see he was still way too weak to do so correctly.

Thorin closed his eyes taking a deep breath before trying to stand up, he clenched his teeth resting the weight of his body on his good leg. He tried to regulate his breathing moving slowly but surely towards the now open door, he needed to move before the girl brought her father to him. Thorin almost fell down, he grabbed the post of the bed with his left hand watching as he dragged his broken leg. He remembered the face of Kíli when he smiled at him after having lost his first tooth, or Fíli holding onto him when they had to bury Dís. Thorin tear up a little shaking his head with determination, he stepped forward whimpering a little before jumping forward. He did this a couple of times until he fell on top of a round table. The table trembled under his weight but it didn’t fell over, the pain was growing in him but Thorin continued his journey towards the door.

The wind hit the window of his room, Thorin shook his head jumping the last meters towards the door almost falling on his face until a pair of arms hold him up. He rested the weight of his body on his broken leg, the pain tearing a scream from his lips while his good arm held onto his saviour.

“Who are you?” The voice was colder than ice, it held a trace of anger and resentment in it and when Thorin lifted his face he found himself looking directly into a pair of electric, blue eyes.

It was a strange moment for Thorin, the moment he was made aware of this stranger’s presence his body ignited with a fire he had never felt. A strange shiver ran through his senses pulling him towards the man holding him up, Thorin shivered under such a stare, he tried to move away but those arms were holding him tightly. The man seemed to be as tense as Thorin, those blue, electric eyes were glancing at him with an intensity that made Thorin vulnerable. The other man soon narrowed his eyes, his mouth twitched unpleasantly forming a grimace of disapproval. Thorin narrowed his eyes tearing his eyes away from those blue eyes to notice for the very first time the face of his host.

The man had scars all over the left side of his face, some of the skin and muscle was missing and there were permanent marks on what Thorin thought was a beautiful face once. The man narrowed his eyes taking his arms away from under Thorin’s armpits, this made him lose his balance and he would have fallen to the ground if it wasn’t by another pair of arms holding him up.

“My Lord…”

“Save your breath, Bard.” The man hissed glaring at the newcomer; Thorin realized he was being held by a man of black hair with a neat beard. The man was glancing at his master with something strange in his eyes. “I want _him_ out of my home before I come back.”

“He is wounded.” Bard said through gritted teeth.

“I do not care.” Thorin frowned shooting an angered glare to the other man, he really didn’t care about this he would leave happily if it wasn’t because Kíli was still missing.

“I care.” Another voice came right in and the tension in the dark hall grew, Thorin tightened his hold on the arm of the man holding him up. He was starting to lose himself to the pain he was feeling.

“Legolas, I don’t think this concerns you at all. I have told you and Bard countless of times about uninvited visitors.” The man waved his hand away and Thorin realized the hand was just as bad as the man’s face. “It is not my problem they get into trouble when slacking on their sense of direction and taking the wrong route…”

“The child is still in a bad state.” Legolas spoke firmly, his voice reached Thorin who tried to incorporate immediately.

“Kíli! Where is he? What is going on? Take me to him! What have you done?!” Desperation, fear and anger grew in Thorin making him angry at himself and the people in the hall, his eyes gleamed with fire making him forget his own wounds.

“We have done nothing.” The other man smirked coldly at Thorin, his eyes gleaming dangerously in the dark. “You should be grateful, human. For if it wasn’t for the good heart of my servants and my son, you and your offspring would have died in the cold of winter before the gates of my home.”

“THRANDUIL!”

Thorin winced under those words and Thranduil recoiled in disbelief when Bard screamed at him, the man was shaking his head in disbelief while Legolas sighed sadly. Thranduil clenched his fists turning around.

“Do whatever you want. You have until tomorrow.” And with those last words Thranduil left.

“Help me here.” Bard asked Legolas who came to help him with Thorin; the man however struggled against the hands of holding him up shaking his head.

“No, Kíli, I need to see him.”

“You will, I promise but first we need to help you back to the chamber…” Bard started but Thorin shook his head.

“No! Kíli! I could care less about me or that bastard you called Lord, I need to see Kíli.” Thorin said firmly and his face was such a mask of determination Legolas and Bard finally gave in.

Thorin was put on the bed where Kíli was sleeping still, the boy had some wet compress on his forehead and the room was kept warm and comfortable for him. Legolas glanced as the man grabbed the kid’s hand speaking softly to him, Bard crossed his arms completely tense after the encounter they had with Thranduil.

“I told you he would be mad.” Legolas finally said in a whisper.

“I didn’t think he would be so…thoughtless.” Bard replied shifting uncomfortably under the stare of the blond man.

“Father stopped being who he was a long time ago, Bard. I thought you knew this.” Legolas said with sadness in his voice.

“I still hope the old Thranduil is there, Legolas. I won’t give up on him.” Bard felt a fluttered in his heart when Legolas smile at him, it was a beautiful yet sorrowful smile the man wished he could change in a heartbeat.

“You’re a hopeless dreamer, my friend.” Legolas directed his attention to the bed then back to Bard. “The child still has a fever and he is not in a good state, I’m afraid we will need my father’s help with him and the man.”

Bard pursed his lips watching as the young man mumbled something to the child on the bed, he was reminded of his own children and how desperate he would be if something bad were to happen to them.

“Do you think he would help?” Bard inquired softly, Legolas cocked his head shrugging.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Legolas placed his hand on Bard’s shoulder squeezing lightly. “For now, make sure he eats something before sending him back to his bed. He needs to rest.”

“Very well, what are you going to do?” Bard glanced at Legolas who stepped back.

“I will try to stabilize the child.” Legolas turned around to see Bard’s older child entering the room, she glanced around the room before setting the bowl with warm water and medical herbs on a table.

“I prepare another one, shall we, Lord Legolas?” The young lady said glancing at his father then a Legolas who nodded briefly.

“Yes, let’s do this.”

“What are you going to do?” Thorin turned to them whatever trace of tears or sadness wiped away and replaced by a blank expression.

“We’re going to keep working on your son’s health.” Legolas replied approaching the bed. “He is quite the fighter, I’m going to do everything in my power to bring him back and make him feel better.”

Thorin swallowed down his pain nodding briefly, “Thank you.”

“Do not thank me yet, stranger.” Legolas gave Thorin a half-smile. “After I finish with him I will take care of your wounds.”

“Him, all I care about is him.” Thorin commented glancing at Kíli while watching the blond man and the young woman working on his nephew’s health.

Bard observed everything from a safe distance still believing what he did was the right thing to do, he knew Thranduil would not be happy about having strangers in his home. But he just couldn’t leave the man and the child fall victims of one of Azog’s spawns; Bard clenched his fist tight watching as his beautiful daughter helped Legolas in the healing process of the child. How many years had they lived in such isolation? How many years since they had last received a guest in the castle? How many years had they suffered the silent threat of the warlock and his servants?

No, Bard could not stay away when he saw those wargs defiling the land he had grown to love. Bard was not ready to give up the way his lords had done so, there was still a fighting vein in him and he was going to make sure it would never extinguish, not if he wanted his children to finally live a happy life. The child was soon left alone and then Legolas and Sigrid moved to attend the young man, Legolas spoke to him reassuringly while Thorin allowed these strangers to threat his wounds.

For a moment Bard observed them in complete silence, still and devoid of any thought or emotions until a light started forming in his mind. It had been more than a decade since they had last welcomed a stranger in the castle, hope had built up in the hearts of everyone when the stranger crossed the gates and met with Thranduil. A hope that was soon shattered and transformed into cold resignation, but now…now the heavens brought to them a new man, someone Bard knew to be different. With an idea in his mind, Bard turned around walking down the hall towards the service stairs, it was time for him and Thranduil to have a conversation about these new guests.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The second time Thorin woke up he knew where he was and what had happened.

The uncertainty of the night before was mostly gone, now there was wariness in his heart regarding the Lord of the house. Thorin had been assured by the young blond man his home was open for him and Kíli until they had recovered, but Thorin was not ready to plea to the man of the night before for asylum if he could prevent it the man had proven to be a cold bastard and Thorin would be damned if he were to beg to him. The young man incorporate careful of his wounds, whatever pain he had suffered the night before it was just a ghost now in the dim light of the morning.

“Good morning.” Thorin lifted his face to see the same little girl of the night before entering his room with a brilliant smile on her face, behind her came a group of servants who placed some food on the table.

“Good morning, Tilda.” Thorin replied smiling back to the child who this time around came closer to him.

“You look better.” The girl tilted her head looking at the servants then back at Thorin. “I heard you got into trouble with Master Thranduil. Tsk, it was because you stood up with those wounds on you.”

The girl scowled at Thorin shaking her head which brought some amusement to the young man, “I apologize, young lady, but I don’t think my wounds are the reason for your master’s wrath.”

The girl opened her mouth and then Thorin watched as sorrow filled her young features, the girl lowered her face shrugging.

“No, perhaps not. But, are you fine now?” The girl changed the topic as well as her mood before pointing to the now serve table. “I brought food.”

“Indeed you did. I thank you for this but, is your Master agreeable to this?”

“I am.” Legolas came right in dismissing the other servants while placing a hand on the little girl’s head.

Thorin furrowed his brows cocking his head to glance to the still open door, “Not to be disrespectful but, isn’t the master of the house the other blond man? The…older one?”

Legolas quirked a brow at the hesitation Thorin let on by the end of his sentence, the young blond knew Thorin had seen his father the night before and if the young man was still upset by his father’s words Legolas had a pretty good idea what Thorin was meant to say. Thorin felt his cheeks colouring red under the knowing glance of the young man, he cleared his throat massaging his broken arm softly.

“I mean…”

“He usually makes all the decisions, yes.” Legolas replied interrupting Thorin with a crooked smile. “But, you are my guest thus it is my duty to see you are treated well. Now, are you going to received food or are you going to reject it?”

Thorin shifted slightly feeling his stomach protest in need, he nodded sharply ready to stand up until he felt the firm hold of the young man around him. It didn’t occur to Thorin right until now this young man, thin and slender, shouldn’t be able to lift him up with such easiness. When Thorin was sat down on the nearest chair to the table he finally got the chance to look over the young man. Legolas stood up tall and regal before him, his mannerism and speech was that of a noble man with his long hair falling neatly down his back and his features sharp and smooth, Legolas was the image of a young Prince, beautiful and deadly all at the same time. His body was thin, slender and yet there was firmness in those shoulders and his arms held the strength of someone who knew how to wield a blade.

Legolas quirked a brow with his lips curling upwards when Thorin looked away rather embarrassed at having been discovered while checking-up the young man. Thorin glanced at the food at the table and his heart leaped in amazement at all the delicious food spread before him, it was more than anyone in the village had tasted and some of the ingredients Thorin didn’t even recognize. For a moment, Thorin felt guilty at having so much food before him and the knowledge people in his village hardly had anything good to last the winter. He swallowed down his conscience before stretching the hand to grab a piece of bread.

“Don’t you like it?” The girl pursed her lips glancing at Thorin then at Legolas.

“I do.” Thorin replied with a sad smile. “It’s just…people in my village don’t have this luxury. Many will die this winter for lack of food.”

“Why? We have plenty food! We can share it, right Legolas?”

Legolas gave the child a half-smile placing his hand on the girl’s head, “It’s not that simple, Tilda. You know it.”

Tilda pursed her lips shaking her head, “It’s not fair.”

Tilda turned around running away from the room, Thorin furrowed his brows at this and his attention turned towards Legolas who was still looking at the place where Tilda had been moments ago.

“I do not believe we have introduced ourselves properly, have we?” Legolas changed his posture all of a sudden, he was now looking confident and elegant all over again. The young man placed his right palm on his chest right above his heart bowing his head slightly. “My name is Legolas, son of Thranduil, and the second Lord of Mirkwood Castle.”

Thorin finished his bread glancing at Legolas with amusement and wonderment, this was the very first time he heard such a name. He wondered where exactly he was and how come he had taken such a drastic detour on the road leading to the neighbouring village.

“I’m Thorin Oakenshield and the child you are saving, he is my nephew, Kíli.” Thorin grabbed another piece of bread pinching tentatively the eggs and meat on the other plates.

“Nephew?” Legolas looked surprised at this. “He looks like you, we thought he was your son.”

“It is the same to me.” Thorin replied curtly before putting food on his mouth, if he wanted to return to the village he would need all the energy possible. “Is he having the same breakfast as me?”

“Well, Thorin Oakenshield, I hope we can be of assistance to you and your nephew.” Legolas commented, his features tensed slightly while his eyes gleamed strangely at Thorin. “Unfortunately, young Kíli’s health has not improved yet. I’m afraid he needs more time for whatever he has to let go of him.”

The food in Thorin’s mouth felt dried and tasteless, his heart dropped helplessly at this news. Legolas offered a gentle smile though his eyes were gleaming in sympathy for the young man.

“I’m sorry to bring such ill news. I promise you we are doing everything we can.” Legolas said softly.

“I just want him to be fine, I just need for Kíli to be fine.” Thorin couldn’t help but break in front of this stranger. He clenched his fists hiding away the weakness on his face. “We do not have a way to pay you what you and your other companion have done for us, and if you were to save Kíli’s life I will probably owe you my own life.”

Legolas blinked slowly regarding Thorin with ancient eyes, for a brief moment Thorin saw many untold stories behind those blue irises, stories he didn’t see reflected in the eyes of the other blond he had met the night before. Whereas Legolas seemed to reflect life and wonderment and hope, the man Thorin had met the night before seemed to reflect only pain, anger and sorrow.

“There is no need for you to pay this, Thorin.” Legolas stepped towards the door stopping right at the threshold, the young man glanced to the left side of the hall before speaking again. “We do this because it’s the right thing to do, once you are back on your feet you can leave along with a recovered Kíli, I promise you this. Rest for now, you and young Kíli are safe here.”

Legolas then turned to the right and left Thorin wondering what was really happening and what was behind this strange castle and its inhabitants. The young man returned to the food ignorant of Thranduil standing in the hall watching the retreating form of his son and the open door of the stranger’s room left open for him.

*****

There was a deafening silence in the room.

Kíli was lying on the bed with his cheeks recovering the normal colour of life, his chest moving up and down in even patterns of breathing. Thranduil approached the bed slowly, his footsteps measure to make his walk last; the great Lord allowed his ancient eyes take in the form of the child before him. He could see weakness in Kíli, his health was faltering by the minute as the sickness took over his life force; yet there was something resisting fate, a strange light coming from the child himself to resist dead. Thranduil stood before the child with his heart flickering slightly, he cocked his head sneering down at his own weakness, he thought he had buried those emotions a long time ago but it seemed as if all this time he had just lied to himself.

Thranduil looked around the room before he leaned in to place his hand on Kíli’s forehead, in a single moment he felt the waves of emotions and memories of the child mixing up with his own. Thranduil felt the hardness of his heart breaking slightly at the simplicity and beauty of the child’s mind. He loved without measure, he dreamt without limits; Kíli was a wonder who held inside him a gentleness Thranduil had forgotten. In the midst of all of this was his uncle, his brave and strong uncle who was the world to him. Thranduil led his mind away from this invasion of privacy and focused on the wounds of the child, he focused on the faltering health seeking out a way to restore the life force of Kíli. Thranduil trembled in weakness, his eyes tearing up while he kept the contact with the child.

The lack of good food, the weather and the lack of medical help left the child weak and with a dangerous sickness on his lungs. It was difficult to fight against time but Thranduil knew it was not impossible to do so, he could sense Legolas and Sigrid had done all they could to safe him but it wasn’t enough. And now, with Thranduil taking care of the next step in the child’s recovery, the Lord of Mirkwood knew his own life force was being consumed and his times was running out. Still, Bard had been right, these people needed Thranduil’s help to survive and Thranduil was not cruel enough to turn his back on them.

“What are you doing?”

Thranduil didn’t bother to acknowledge the voice behind him, he kept his concentration on his task with his heart speeding up just a little bit. He still remembered the night before, still remembered the way his body reacted to the closeness of the man. His body was still trembling with the aftermath of their brief physical contact; Thorin furrowed his brows ignoring his feebleness, he blamed the lack of contact with people from the outside world to his strange reaction the night before. Thranduil had given up hope so long ago and it had been even longer since he last felt in such a way, he was pretty sure his reactions were a ghost of the past.

The Lord of Mirkwood tensed completely when he heard the other man approaching, his hand working still on the health of the child on the bed.

“Hey, I ask you what are you doing.” Thorin asked again more forcefully this time.

Thranduil collected himself removing his hand from the child’s forehead, he turned around unhurriedly with his eyes gleaming dangerously as he dedicated Thorin a scornful stare. He stood up for he knew his height had always been something he could rely on when facing his subjects and enemies, though in his heart Thorin was anything but a subject or an enemy.

Under the light of the day the Master of the castle was different than what Thorin remembered of him. This time around Thorin was capable of observing in more detail the young man in front of him. He was tall and elegant with broad shoulders and sharp features forging a face that in another time and place had been beautiful; under the light of the day, Thorin could see the burn marks and the different scars adorning the marbled face of the man. The skin was red and pink, burning with memory in those places where skin and muscle were missing, his hair was long and straight, a vibrant blond resembling gold falling on his ample back.

However, what captivate Thorin completely were those eyes. Blue eyes resembling the deepest part of the ocean he had seen once, those blue eyes that spoke of pain and anger, of sorrow and loneliness.

Thranduil straightened back twitching his lips marking burns and wounds on his face, Thorin leaned back clenching his jaw at the sudden change in the man in front of him he thought he wouldn’t see more of this man again. Apparently, he was wrong.

“It seems as if my son has taken a liking on you and your offspring.” The man spoke with dismissal as if the mere topic was not even worth mentioning.

“Kíli, his name is Kíli.” Thorin replied swallowing down when the man tilted his head making him face the disfigurement on his face and neck.

Thranduil clenched his jaw making all the muscles and the skin on his face tense, his eyes observing with care the reactions coming from the man still sitting on the chair. He was no stranger to people reacting with revulsion before his appearance, he had come accustomed to people stepping away at the sight of him. Thranduil felt his heart turned to stone, he leaned forward relying on his height to corner the man standing before him; Thranduil lifted his burn hand stretching it towards the sleeping form of the child who was still on the bed. His eyes narrowed when he saw the other man leaned forward in a defensive position, those hazel eyes pinning Thranduil, daring him to move any closer to the child. Thranduil smirked though in the deepest part of his soul he felt the piercing pain of rejection twisting around what little emotions he still had in him.

“What are you doing?” Thorin couldn’t help the anxiety in his voice, his eyes narrowed while he followed every move the man in front of him was making. “Answer me instead of evading my question.”

Thranduil sneered at Thorin straightened up, “It’s not contagious. And you should be more respectful to those better than you, and to those who had extended a hand to help you in your time of need.”            

Thorin blinked for a moment taken aback by the comment, he watched as Thranduil lifted his hand waving it away gracefully before his eyes hardened.

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked again ignoring the comment, Thranduil cocked his head before turning his back to Thorin. “As far as I remembered, it was your son and Bard the one ready to help. So, forgive me if I doubt of your intentions when you are so close to my nephew.”

“I’m making sure you and this child leave my home as soon as possible.” Thranduil replied dryly. “Believe me, if it wasn’t for Legolas or Bard, I wouldn’t even be here.”

Thranduil turned his back on Thorin again, he hated the fact his mere existence was shaken up by this young man. He hated it even more he felt hurt by those piercing words, by the mistrust and the animosity in Thorin’s voice. Thranduil decided to finish off his task so he could go back to the solitude of his library; he needed to run away from whatever it was this situation. Thorin opened his mouth to speak again when a bright light appeared on the hand of the blond man, Thorin opened his eyes in shock at the sight. He tried to incorporate when he realized the other man was doing magic, some sort of spell that was now covering the young head of Kíli.

“Wait! What…” Thorin trailed off when Kíli gasped coughing before calling weakly for his mom.

Thranduil leaned back putting his hand away, his blue eyes on the child who fluttered his eyes open. Thorin jumped towards the bed almost falling on his face, if it wasn’t for the fast thinking of the man who, once again, held him up before positioning him on the bed.

“Kíli.” Thorin felt his heart burst in happiness and relief, Kíli blinked some more with his eyes on his uncle.

“Uncle?” The young boy rubbed his eyes trying to sit down, confusion evident on his face. “What happen? Where’s Fíli?”

Thorin gave the young child a watery smile placing his hand on Kíli’s head putting him closer for a hug.

“He is fine. Everything is fine now.”

Thranduil stood away from the scene, he became a spectator of such an emotional moment feeling his soul stirred in want. Just when Thranduil thought he was forgotten, Thorin turned around looking solemnly at him.

“Thank you.” Thorin mumbled still holding Kíli who was clinging to him, the child was looking over at Thranduil with open curiosity.

Thranduil tensed nodding curtly, “Like I said, I just want you and Kíli out of my home.”

Thorin creased his brows uncertain, Thranduil didn’t wait for more conversation to be held, he merely turned around and left just as silently as he had come.

“Who was that?” Kíli inquired lifting his face to his uncle.

“He is…” Thorin trailed off before shaking his head. “I’m not sure, but I believe he is the Lord of this castle.”

“Castle? Is he a Prince?” Kíli asked with a hint of excitement in his tone. “He looks like one.”

Thorin chuckled ruffling the child’s hair, “Yes, he does. But, I’m not sure if he is a Prince.”

Kíli pressed his lips together hesitating for a moment before revealing what was in his mind, “He looks strange.”

Thorin deepened his frown at this, “You shall not mention this, Kíli.”

“Why?” Kíli blinked his puzzlement cocking his head to the side.

“Because it could be considered rude, and he just make you feel better, right?”

“Yes.” Kíli seemed even more confused as Thorin continued speaking.

“Well, we shouldn’t be rude to our host. So mentioning his scars is not a good idea.” Thorin continued poking Kíli on his nose.

Kíli chuckled shaking his head, “Silly, uncle, I wasn’t talking about his scars.”

Thorin was taken aback by this, he narrowed his eyes at his youngest nephew when Kíli made a face that reminded Thorin of Dís.

“Then, what do you mean?” Thorin asked and Kíli glanced at the open door.

“One moment he was this bright, beautiful Prince.” Kíli explained waving his hands all happy, then his face dropped and he furrowed his brows. “Then, he was this sad and lonely Prince. Do you think he needs to be saved like the Princess in our books?”

Thorin couldn’t answer to this for in that moment Tilda came in running with a huge grin on her face.

“He is awake!! Da is gonna be happy!” Tilda giggled turning around waving her hand to someone in the hall. “He is here and the boy is awake, Da!”

Kíli blinked slowly holding onto his uncle, he was feeling tired again though he was snuggling closer to Thorin. The young man held Kíli watching as Bard entered the room with relief smile on his face, behind him Sigrid and some servants came in bringing food to feed both guests. Kíli’s eyes opened in surprised and soon he was eating all he could stopping when Sigrid would held him gently explaining to him why it was a bad idea to eat too much or too fast.

Thorin watched as his nephew seemed to have a miraculously recovery, he couldn’t deny he was happy for this though he was also wondering what role had Thranduil played in all this. The young man turned around to see Bard looking at him, a strange smile playing on the man’s lips.

“I see he has finally recovered.” Thorin turned around rather shocked to see Legolas standing behind him, the blond man smiled at him.

“Yes, he has.” Thorin mumbled shifting uncomfortably. “Thank you.”

“No, do not thank me, Thorin.” Legolas shook his head placing a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank my father, if it hadn’t been for him I don’t believe young Kíli, or even you, would have made it.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Two weeks had passed since Kíli had woken up and the boy seemed to be recovering just fine.

The food and the security of the castle was doing wonders to his health and mood, though he was missing his brother and the village terrible. For Thorin it was a slow process though, his chest was feeling better now though his leg and arm where slowly returning to their original state. In all this time, Thorin had learnt little about the household or its inhabitants; there wasn’t much they could tell him about themselves except they loved living in the castle. Thorin had a suspicion there was something they were hiding from him but he couldn’t find out what it was, most of them just changed the subject or just remained silent until Thorin himself decided to speak of another topic.

Thorin was also being hunted by the words of Legolas, he had seen Thranduil working on Kíli’s health but he was unaware of the man working on his. Was it true? Or was it a way to make Thranduil look like less of an asshole? Thorin wasn’t sure for he also thought Thranduil was a mystery on his own, whenever he went to ask about what he had done to Kíli everyone had told him to stop asking questions and just be grateful. Legolas had been the only one to look rather conflicted by his questions though his solution was not better than the others.

_Ask my father, Thorin, I am not fit to answer all the questions hunting your mind._

But, Thorin could not ask and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Thranduil again. They had seen one another from time to time, their encounters usually started and ended with bickering and battle of wits. Sometimes Thorin enjoyed these moments, some other’s it made him want to strangle the man. Whatever kind of relationship they had, Thorin was soon immersed in a world of confusion, the blond man was a complete mystery to him and it was someone that made Thorin’s blood boiled in ways he never imagine possible. Not even his former wife had made him feel these kind of emotions, thus whatever Thranduil had awaken in Thorin, Thorin was scared to even approached the man for fear of doing or saying something that would condemn him or Kíli.

“Uncle, look!” Kíli stood before him wearing beautiful clothing. He had on him a twin set of dark blue trousers with a tabard fit for his height, Kíli was smiling broadly showing off the golden buttons and the leathery belt around his waist. His boots had also been made for him almost reaching his knees.

“You look like a Prince, Kíli.”

“Nu-uh.” Kíli shook his head pursing his lips. “Like a hero, Uncle. I look like a hero! Come Tauriel, let’s fight!”

Thorin smiled gently watching as his nephew looked at himself in disbelief, his clear eyes gleaming happily as he grabbed the hand of the red-head girl and took her to where Tilda was holding two wooden swords. He wasn’t sure how Kíli would react when it was time for them to leave this place, in the last week his nephew had enjoyed of privileges no one in the village had had before. Thorin felt his heart drop at this though, he was missing home terrible and he was worried about everyone but specially Fíli. They needed to go back, the sooner the better. Thorin looked at himself knowing his leg would soon be completely healed for him to go back, but he also knew he would need some help.

Bard placed a cup of hot tea beside Thorin, he blinked slowly enjoying the sweet aroma of his beverage while Thorin explained to him his reasons to leave the castle.

“I understand.” Bard commented slowly. “I am not the Lord of this household, though.”

“I know this, but I have come to you to plea my case, perhaps you can convince your Lord to help me with this.” Thorin shrugged then. “I do not know how to pay for the kindness you and Lord Legolas have shown me, but I will make sure to pay you off in some way.”

Bard tensed slightly, he turned his attention to the fireplace before eyeing the man sitting in front of him.

“My lord Thranduil had been confined to his library.” Bard commented. “Go to him, tell him about your needs and I will consider your debt with me paid.”

This caught Thorin by surprised, he eyed the man with suspicion gleaming in his hazel eyes.

“Why?” The question left his mouth before he could stop it, Thorin flustered slightly though he held the amused stare of Bard.

“Humour me, Thorin.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I think your Lord is an ass.” Thorin mumbled, Bard snorted though he shot Thorin a warning glare.

“You are judging him harshly, Thorin.” Bard leaned forward placing his elbows on the table. “Speak to him, you won’t regret it and the debt you so fear will be paid.”

“Then, I will owe more than I already do to your Lord.” Thorin retorted narrowing his eyes.

“No, you will be just asking what you need and, perhaps, getting what you want.” Bard then leaned back. “And me? Well, I will probably be sure you can see another side of Lord Thranduil.”

If Thorin thought his task would be any different if he approached Legolas, he was mistaken. The young Lord smiled at him, but his eyes were gleaming with something strange in them.

“You should ask my father, Thorin.” Legolas quirked a brow at the man who was now scowling deeply.

“Why? I’m asking you.” Thorin replied grudgingly crossing his arms.

“My father is the only one with such a power, go to him and ask him.”

“He will say no.” Thorin replied feeling defensive all of a sudden. If he were to examine his actions he would think them childish, he hadn’t seen the man for more than a week and had dealt with him only two times prior so, why was he so reluctant to see him?

Legolas quirked his lips upwards leaning back against the chair he was in, his blue eyes rolling to the left to see Kíli playing with Tilda and Tauriel. Thorin followed his gaze watching his healthy nephew laughing and enjoying his time in the castle, once again he was reminded of Fíli and his home, of the strange circumstances that had brought them here. Thorin felt something inside him stirred with decision, he shrugged scratching the back of his neck slowly.

“He won’t say no and, if you do this I will consider your debt to me paid.”

“Why? Why you and Bard seem so keen on me talking to him? It is not as if he is agreeable to the idea of me or Kíli being here and, honestly? I’m not very keen of this idea either.” Thorin replied pursing his lips.

Legolas was silent for a long time, Thorin observed the sudden change in the young man who was looking at some point in the room with his eyes far away from them. There was memory in those blue eyes, a memory of something Legolas could not forget. Thorin waited patiently though he was thinking he had asked something that required a deep, personal answer. Legolas shifted his weight on the chair, he placed his hands on the table piercing with his eyes the man sitting in front of him.

“It has been a long time since we have visitors, Thorin.” Legolas explained slowly. “My father has little to no patient to those he doesn’t deem worthy of his attention.”

Thorin opened his mouth to protest, he felt anger run through him but he was stopped by a single gesture of Legolas.

“He came to you when we brought you, he healed some of your wounds and then tried to do the same with young Kíli.” Legolas spoke softly with honesty twinkling in his eyes, Thorin creased his brows in disbelief. “He came then the following night, and the night after that…but, it wasn’t until you woke up that he seemed…different. Why? I do not know, but I was hoping something in you remind him of who he used to be.”

“I still don’t understand.” Thorin said softly only to receive a half-smile from the young man in front of him.

“You don’t need to understand it, Thorin. Soon, we will be just a far-away memory in yours and Kíli’s mind but, for today, I will ask of you to speak with father.” Legolas then leaned back. “After this, your debt to me will be paid and you won’t have to think you owe me or Bard anything else.”

*****

Thranduil sat down on his chair watching the flames of the fireplace danced around before his eyes, the wounds of the past were burning with memory bringing the pain he had come accustomed to. In all the years he had spent in this castle alone, he never thought it possible for him to feel curiosity or even craved knowledge of anyone from the outside world; the child and his uncle however had come to this house and disrupted the peace they shared. Thranduil glanced at his hand, he didn’t know exactly when it happened, he only was aware his pain had disappeared one day he had been around Thorin bickering with the young man as it was their habit. Thranduil had been puzzle at first but as he got to taste the moments of painless peace, he came to crave Thorin’s company more and more. It wasn’t until he enjoyed a quiet afternoon with Kíli and his uncle that Thranduil understood he and his heart were in deep, deep trouble.

The room was dark and silent, Thorin entered the library slowly trying to not make any sound as to not interrupted whatever important business Lord Thranduil was dealing with. His eyes took some time to get use to the dark but, when they did, he realized he had yet to see the wonders hidden inside the castle. He stood with his mouth hanging open, his eyes sweeping around the room to the great bookshelves surrounding the walls, his eyes fell upon the different titles and size of the books filling up the library. He stepped forward almost falling on his face when he crashed against a small table containing some parchments there.

“Are you always this clumsy and noisy? Or, is it something you acquire after almost losing your life?” Thranduil inquired dryly, he quirked a brow at the man while hiding the left side of his body behind the shadows of the room.

Thorin felt his cheeks burn in shame, his eyes narrowed at the man who was looking at him with warily. Thorin held onto the table before hopping forward a little bit, while he still felt some pain on his foot he could at least walk whenever he put his mind into the task. However, to reach this room he had used more of his stubbornness that he could gather at the moment.

“You are going to lose sensibility in that leg if you keep forcing yourself like that.” Thranduil commented crossing his arms.

“You speak out of experience, right?” Thorin bit back annoyed. “Is that why you seem so insensible most of the time?”

Thranduil lifted his face, his blue eyes gleaming dangerously as they contemplated Thorin with anger, “If I have been as insensible as you thought me to be you and your nephew wouldn’t be alive.”

Thorin scowled looking away for a brief moment, he lost control over his words and emotions and he still wondered why it had happened. There was something about the man that irked him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint at what it was. The young man took a deep breath, he had come here to ask for something and being rude was not going to give him none of the things he came looking for. Thranduil for his part was eyeing the man with suspicion, his heart beating fast inside his chest while the voice of his conscience berated him for being so defensive.

“I apologize.” Thorin mumbled looking away, Thranduil quirked a brow with his lips curling up slightly.

“I can’t hear you, you must speak louder if you want me to hear what you are mumbling.” Thranduil didn’t care to hide his smirk when Thorin turned hazel eyes to him

Thorin looked away growling out loudly this time, “I apologize.”

“Apologize? Whatever for?” Thranduil’s amusement grew when he realized this was hard on Thorin, the young man shot him an angered stare before buffing.

“I came here thinking you, a Lord of great wealth, knew how to behave with humility and a little bit of consideration. I see I was wrong.” Thorin was about to leave when he tripped with his own feet, he would have fallen on his face if it hadn’t been by Thranduil’s quick movements.

“I am starting to think, Thorin Oakenshield, you rather like to be on the ground.” Thranduil sneered at the man on his arms who tried to disentangle himself from Thranduil’s hold.

“I don’t.” Thorin replied grumbling softly.

“Or, perhaps, it is you like to be in my arms?” Thranduil was just as surprised as Thorin, he swallowed down his words stepping back while looking away.

Thorin for his part eyed the young man in front of him with confusion, his face warmed up at the comment and his mind brought to him unrequired images of those blue eyes. The moment turned rather awkward for a moment, with Thorin leaning on his good leg and Thranduil glancing back to the fire.

“Do you want to sit?” Thranduil finally spoke with a soft, contemplative voice. Thorin nodded briefly hopping towards the chair before Thranduil could offer any help.

“Why are you here?” Thranduil asked turning his back to the young man, Thorin bit his lower lip leaning back against the back of the chair.

“I think it is time for Kíli and me to leave this place.” Thorin said turning his face to the fireplace. “Bard, Lord Legolas and you have been kind to us and I do not think I will be able to pay what you have done for us.”

“There is no need.” Thranduil whispered approaching the fireplace, his hand lifting up to rest on the smooth surface of the wooden border surrounding the fireplace.

“There is. I would have died along with Kíli if it wasn’t for you and your people.” Thorin realized this conversation was not only the strangest one he had had up until now but also he was saying things that needed to be said if he wanted to leave this place with peace in his heart.

Thranduil lowered his gaze to the flames of the fire, he trembled slightly when the memories of the past invaded his mind. Thorin couldn’t help but stare at the wounds on the man’s face, his eyes caught sight of those burns turning a deep shade of red for a moment before Thranduil shook his head turning to face him. Thorin didn’t look away fast enough and he was caught staring at those wounds, Thranduil clenched his jaw turning again this time around hiding away his disfigurement.

“I apolo…”

“Don’t.” Thranduil stopped Thorin before he could apologize. “You are not sorry to have stared, you are sorry to have been caught.”

Thorin furrowed his brows, he wanted to say Thranduil wasn’t right but he knew this wasn’t true.  The young man nodded briefly lowering his gaze then.

“Is there anything else you need from me?” Thranduil inquired cocking his face to the side.

Thorin pursed his lips nodding briefly, “My wounds, I cannot ride in this state. I was wondering if there is something you could do about them.”

Silence consumed the room again, Thorin was left wondering if perhaps he had been too pretentious in asking such a favour out of his host. He was, after all, a mere guest, a poor, miserable guest who had been saved already by these people and owed them more than he could pay. Still, Thorin really needed to get back home and he was ready to bite down his pride to make sure he was back to Fíli. Thorin was about to say something else to convince Thranduil of helping him when he found himself watching into those deep, electric blue eyes; Thranduil had knelt in front of him his good hand moving closer to his healing leg.

“I am not sure how much I will be able to do.” Thranduil said with his hand hovering above Thorin’s leg.

“Why?” Thorin felt this word left his lips thought he wasn’t sure why he was questioning this actions.

Thranduil seemed to think the same for he blinked a couple of times, his lips curling up and his eyes gleaming in mild amusement.

“Why, what? You will have to be more specific, Mr. Oakenshield, my mind reading abilities don’t work on you.”

“Really?” For some reason Thorin felt scared of this man being able to read his thoughts, he stared at Thranduil who merely rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“No, I do not possess that ability though now I’m starting to think it would be of great help when dealing with you.”

Thorin closed his mouth eyeing the man in front of him curiously, he cleared his throat looking away when he found it impossible to hold the blue stare of the young Lord.

“I mean, why are you doing this?”

“Healing your leg?” Thranduil asked and Thorin merely nodded. “You asked for it.”

“Yes, I know I just…” Thorin furrowed his brows in uttered confusion.

“The sooner you leave the better.” Thranduil mumbled in answer to the unasked question.

“Ah, right, I forgot about that. Kíli and I have been overstaying our welcome I your home.” Thorin commented feeling a comforting warm around his leg.

“That’s correct.” Thranduil focused his thoughts and energy on the leg, he felt his energy mixing up with the energy of the man sitting before him. When he had done this with young Kíli the sensation had been different, he had felt the innocence of the child and had understood the child’s pain and happiness. Thranduil had been reminded of Legolas when he had been young, and he was reminded of himself in his younger days.

However, the first time he had done this with Thorin…

Thranduil shivered slightly putting his hand away when he started feeling the electric pulse connecting him to Thorin. He lifted his face to see if Thorin had felt something but the man had his eyes closed, his breathing was even and he seemed to be on a resting position.  Once again he was left in utter confusion and wonderment, he stayed in the same position for a few minutes watching the sleeping form of Thorin. He leaned in allowing his fingertips a careful brush against the face of the male, his fingers touching the growing beard on the man’s chin. Fear soon came though, Thranduil took his hand away standing up rather fast.

“Are you all right?” Legolas came to him glancing at his father with concern on his eyes.

“I am.” Thranduil whispered back taking his eyes off of Thorin. “The man seems to have fallen asleep while I was trying to heal him. The leg will take some more time to heal but I believe by the end of the week he will be able to ride to whatever place he comes from.”

Legolas approached the chair snorting in amusement at the sleeping man, he then turned to his father who was glancing at the fire again.

“Then, I will make preparations for the horse to be at the ready and for his things to be ready for his departure.” Legolas commented turning around, just when he was about to leave his father called out to him.

“Legolas.”

“Yes?”

Thranduil hesitated for a moment, the man sighed snarling in disgust before the mask he usually wore broke and Legolas could see traces of his father. The father he remembered and loved more than anything in the world.

“It has been a while since we last share a dinner, make the right preparations for us and our guests.”

“Dinner, eh?” Legolas said teasingly wiggling his eyes at his father who shot him an exasperate stare.

“Yes, dinner. The way a host should treat his guest.” Thranduil excused himself though he hated the knowing stare his son was shooting his way.

“Of course, because you usually do this with all out guests.” Legolas replied. “Don’t forget to tell him when he wakes up.”

Before Thranduil could reply the door close behind Legolas and Thranduil was left alone with Thorin. As the room was consumed by darkness again, Thranduil couldn’t help the dark thoughts to sneak inside his mind. His blue eyes fell upon his burn hand, the pain of the old cursed came to him stronger than ever until he was on the ground gritting his teeth. Little by little he could feel his live slipping away, using his energy to heal mortals usually brought to him weakness and vulnerability against the curse. Thranduil took a deep breath, he crawled for a moment until he felt the warm contact of a hand on his shoulder. Almost as soon as it had come the pain disappeared, all memories of war and dead left the blond’s head and for a moment he felt life returning to his left arm.

“Are you all right?” Thorin’s voice broke Thranduil’s distraction, the blond man looked up to see Thorin staring at him with concern gleaming in his eyes. Thorin was still sitting and Thranduil realized he had a break down close to this man.

“I am.” Thranduil replied wondering what was happening to his pain, to his wounds…to his heart.

Thorin narrowed his eyes, uncertainty gleaming in his hazel eyes, “You don’t look well.”

“You fell asleep.” Thranduil commented changing the topic, Thorin doubted for a second before taking a step back in the conversation.

“I did.” Thorin then gave a half-smile to the blond’ man, Thranduil felt the weight of the world being lifted of his shoulders at the sight of such a smile. “It just felt warm and good, I just closed my eyes to enjoy it for a moment and then fell asleep. Not for long, though, right?”

“No, only a few minutes.” Thranduil straightened up covering the left side of his face with his hair.

“Good.” Thorin mused over his thoughts for a moment before asking again. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Thranduil nodded curtly, “Yes, your leg should be capable of holding you on the horse by the end of the week. You can leave by then.”

Thorin opened his eyes smiling briefly, “Thank you.”

“There is going to be a dinner.” Thranduil stumbled over his words, he stepped back waving his right hand slowly.

“Dinner?” Thorin seemed even more confused now, he knew there won’t be any clear answers for Thranduil seemed reluctant to speak more than a few words.

“Yes, you and Kíli are invited, of course.” Thranduil seemed to contemplate something before saying. “We will like for the two of you to come.”

Thorin blinked a couple of times, “It would be my honour to come to this dinner, then.”

Thranduil turned to Thorin, his lips curled forming the smallest of smiles to Thorin, “Good, everything is being prepared already. You should go to your room and change.”

“Change? Why?” Thorin scrunched up his nose watching his clothes. “This clothes are still clean, I put them on this morning.”

“For a formal dinner you should put on something better.” Thranduil replied dryly.

“I don’t have anything else.” Thorin retorted uncomfortably, Thranduil tensed cursing himself for forgetting this bit of information.

The blond pursed his lips before speaking again, “You will find some suitable clothing in your wardrobe. Whatever you want, whatever you need, it is yours.”

“I cannot take more from you than what I already have taken.” Thorin said standing up, he hopped forward letting his hand fall on the man’s forearm.

Thranduil shivered at the closeness, his eyes went from the hand on his forearm to the hazel eyes of Thorin.

“You won’t take it, you will only wear it for dinner then return it.” Thranduil mumbled, Thorin snorted shaking his head.

“That’s a reasonable way to put it. Very well, thanks for the invitation, Lord Thranduil.” Thorin chuckled shaking his head. “Your son was right, you’re not such an asshole after all.”

Thranduil arched his brow before pushing Thorin to the point the man almost lost his balance. Thorin yelped clinging to Thranduil who was smirking at him, his eyes dancing around in amusement.

“I take my words back, you are an asshole.”

Thranduil snickered stepping back, he gave Thorin a coy stare before looking away, “And yet, here we are with you falling on my arms.”

Thorin flustered shaking his head, “No because I want to, mind you.”

“Of course not.” Thranduil replied and he hated the sudden twist he felt in his heart.  “It is still early, the healing process has started in you so I will suggest a brief nap before you get ready for dinner.”

Thorin glanced at Thranduil but the man seemed to suddenly close up, he turned his back to Thorin and the young man understood this was a way to dismiss him for the moment. Thorin made his way to the door, once he reached it he cocked his head so Thranduil could hear him.

“I will see you at dinner then, Lord Thranduil.”

The door closed behind Thorin leaving Thranduil in a world of confusion and pain, a pain that only stopped whenever Thorin was nearby.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I intended for this to be a one-shot, I failed   
> I hope you guys like this one, it is going to be only two chapters long.


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